


All the sweetness and all the glory

by pes



Series: aster hall [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Bottom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Mild Sexual Content, Mpreg, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Top Bucky Barnes, cheesy cheesy mccheese, regency au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pes/pseuds/pes
Summary: “Do you know,” Steve began softly, mindful of the sleeping child, “I can’t tell whom she takes after the most just yet, but one thing I know for certain. This,” he said, tracing Annie’s dimpled chin with the very tip of his finger, “this she got from your side of the family.”(In which a visit to Bucky's new niece kindles all sorts of feelings, and a precious little secret comes to light.)





	All the sweetness and all the glory

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the cap septender challenge, but I'm always late to the party, so there :D *cries in spanish* I just needed something extra extra extra self-indulgent to drag myself out of a bad case of writer's block, so here it is. May the cheese gods have mercy on my soul.

The note came at lunchtime.

The page brought it in just as they were served dessert, the cream-white paper folded and sealed on a silver plate. Bucky hadn’t wanted to wait. He had barely touched his cake before he was sending for their coats and telling the footman to have their coach ready at once.

His leg was bouncing the whole trip from Aster Hall to the Proctors’ estate, vibrating with energy, and he kept throwing Steve excited glances, his eyes gleaming with joy. It was as if he simply couldn’t stop smiling, and Steve smiled in return, pulling him in for a kiss when he couldn’t stand the beautiful, infuriating sight anymore.

It only got worse as the manor came into view – it seemed Bucky was about to burst out of his skin with anticipation.

When they stepped out of the carriage and into the crisp autumn air, Bucky laced their fingers together, his touch a welcome warmth around Steve’s cold hand. Bucky didn’t let go even as they were shown in, and they made their way to the Lady’s chambers side by side, trading grins and hushed words between them, like so many secrets whispered against the quiet vastness of the House.

The bedroom was nice and cozy from the lit fireplace, and all the curtains pinned to let the afternoon’s buttery light in.

They spotted Becca right away. She sat in her bed, in the midst of fluffed up pillows, a dressing gown drawn around her. Her dark hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, and though she looked tired still, there was color on her rosy cheeks, and no wavering in the way she held the baby in her arms.

When she looked up and saw them, the glimmer in her eyes said it all.

“There you are, at last,” she called softly. She was _beaming_. Bucky’s hand twitched in Steve’s hold, fluttering like a heartbeat. “Come, you two. Come meet your niece.”

She didn’t need to say it twice.

* * *

Seeing Bucky fuss over the baby kindled and unexpected tenderness in Steve’s chest. He was so eager, so smitten, yet so afraid – clearly yearning to touch but never daring to do so, until Becca got fed up with his lovestruck look and decided he was to hold her daughter.

“I won’t hurt her, will I?” He fretted anxiously, even as he held out his arms to take her.

“You won’t,” Becca promised with an exasperated smile. “Just make sure to support her head, like this.”

The little girl stirred for a moment, her eyes fluttering open to show a deep, clouded blue; but soon she settled, and pressed her cheek to Bucky’s breast as she slipped back into slumber.

“There you go,” Becca cooed, cupping her hand over the crown of her daughter’s delicate head. “Annie is very pleased to meet you, uncle James.”

“Oh– oh, she’s heavier than she looks,” Bucky grinned, admiring his niece as she slept in the crook of his arm, her tufty chestnut hair sticking up against his sleeve.

He stood up, ever so slowly, and sought Steve’s eyes to share a besotted look with him.

“Steve,” he whispered excitedly, “Steve, come see her. Come look at her.”

Steve joined him, looking on with fond amusement. His husband barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing Annie’s sleep, but still he leaned into Steve’s space to share his newly found treasure with him, like he always did. If Steve hadn’t married him in the spring already, he would have done so right there and then.

“She’s so small,” Bucky sighed, enraptured. “Can you believe how small she is?”

“Hardly,” Steve chuckled.

And truly, she was– looked smaller still, cradled safely to Bucky’s chest, in the circle of his arms; her fists impossibly tiny next to Bucky’s own hand, where it spanned her belly and rose and fell with each of her soft breaths.

She slept so soundly, so peacefully there, it nearly made Steve jealous. He knew what that felt like; to lay his head on Bucky’s breast, as he did most nights, and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

It wasn’t jealousy that seized his heart, though.

A different feeling rose to the surface, one he had been trying to ignore for a while now. A new kind of longing, stirring within him at the tenderness he saw in Bucky’s touch – the ease with which he had taken to the baby girl, the look of sheer wonder on his face as he drank her in, one precious detail at a time.

It was so easy to let his mind wander. To picture this moment in a near future; a different room, a different child. One _he_ would place in Bucky’s arms. One he would bring into the world, and let Bucky spoil rotten, to his heart’s content. One they would call theirs.

It was so easy to see; so easy to want. Steve nearly felt himself tremble. It was all he could do to keep his fingers from brushing against his own stomach.

His heart still racing, he touched his hand to Bucky’s arm instead, looking between him and Becca.

“May I hold her?”

* * *

Bucky passed the baby over to him with a proud smile on his lips; love for the both of them clear in the blue of his eyes.

Annie fussed for a few moments, unhappy to be jostled again – but when she turned her little face into Steve’s coat, the perfect bow of her mouth suckling by reflex, he knew himself to be conquered.

He could feel Bucky’s gaze on him, his lingering presence beside him, and thought quite distractingly– if Bucky would put his arms around him now, he and Annie would both fit in his embrace.

“Do you know,” he began softly, mindful of the sleeping child, “I can’t tell whom she takes after the most just yet, but one thing I know for certain. This,” he said, tracing Annie’s dimpled chin with the very tip of his finger, “this she got from your side of the family.”

He didn’t know how to say, _I hope our children do, too_. But Bucky kissed his temple, sweet and grateful, and it made up for all the things left unsaid.

* * *

They stayed for a while, long enough for Becca’s husband to join them and chitchat and invite them to stay for dinner. They made their excuses – but “very soon, as soon as you’re better,” Bucky promised with a kiss to his sister’s forehead – and then they were taking their leave.

When Steve returned Annie to her father’s waiting arms, he didn’t miss the way Bucky was watching him. The warmth in his gaze. The way his bright smile sobered, and the curve of his lips turned more subtle, more private as Steve met his eye.

He offered Steve his arm, and they left just as they had arrived: together, and perhaps joined in more ways than just one.

* * *

In the carriage, they couldn’t help but nestle close on the velvet seat, instinct and tenderness pulling their bodies into one another.

Steve sighed contentedly. Outside, the waning light of dusk was fading into a deep blue; inside the coach, the lamp was lit and so, it seemed, were their hearts, beating to the rhythm of some secret joy.

Bucky was quiet for a long while, yet his eyes sought Steve’s over and over, with an eagerness in them which Steve wasn’t sure how to read. Something was on his mind, Steve knew. He lay his hand on Bucky’s thigh, just above the knee, and stroked his thumb in a lazy curve there.

“What is it?” He asked softly.

Bucky tucked himself closer, placing his hand atop Steve’s.

“I’m afraid you married a very selfish man, my love,” he murmured against Steve’s temple. Steve leaned into his touch, smiling when warm breath turned into a kiss against his skin.

“Indeed?”

“Oh, yes. Terribly, terribly selfish.” Bucky sighed heavily. “I’ve not been a good brother today.”

Steve peered up at him, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. “How so?”

Bucky wouldn’t meet his eye. He stared at their joined hands instead, trailing the pad of his thumb across Steve’s knuckles in a gentle caress.

“I was so grateful for my sister’s happiness,” he said at last, “but even then, I found myself envying her.”

He lifted his gaze, hesitantly, as if by doing so he might reveal the deepest corners of his heart.

It wasn’t far from the truth. When Steve looked in his eyes, it seemed Bucky’s very soul was contained in them. They burned like braziers, bright in the dimness, brimming with hope.

“I saw what she had,” Bucky said, “and all I could think was, _I want this for myself, too_.”

Steve stared, his lips parted, his breath barely coming to him. His heart ached to see Bucky so vulnerable, and yet– and yet hope began to brew within him too, deep, deep in his belly where his sweetest secret lived.

“You would want that?” He asked over the quiet pounding in his chest. “You would truly want that?”

The softest of smiles curled Bucky’s lips, shy like Steve had rarely seen on him.

“All the while that you were holding Annie, I kept wondering how it would be if only she were ours.”

He took Steve’s hand and brought it to his chest, as if Steve could tap into his heart and see the truth spilling between his fingers.

“I pictured you with our own child in your arms, and the very notion moved me so–” Bucky’s voice wavered, breaking under the weight of emotion. His eyes gleamed like jewels in the golden light. “How wondrous, I thought to myself. This child only exists in my fancy today, and already I love them more than life itself.”

Never had Steve so welcomed the sting of tears before.

A weight he hadn’t realized was there had lifted off his chest, and he felt light, light and giddy, dizzy with happiness.

“Bucky,” he smiled, cupping his husband’s cheek with a trembling hand. Bucky caught it in his own, and turned his face to kiss it, one and two and then three times, from Steve’s wrist to the meat of his palm.

“Would you want that, too?” He asked softly.

Warmth fluttered in Steve’s belly; and though it was too soon for any life within him to stir, he let himself imagine.

He traced the curve of Bucky’s mouth with his thumb, and leaned in to place a kiss where he had touched.

“I do,” he murmured, and felt Bucky’s relieved breath brush against his lips. “More than I can say.”

* * *

All that evening, it was as if something new had been kindled between them; a new understanding that went beyond tenderness, beyond desire, and made Steve’s spine tingle with anticipation.

When they reached home, the night air was brisk, already a promise of the winter to come; Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders, tucking his smaller frame into his side, and Steve let him do so without protest.

The stars glittered like ice drops against the pitch black sky, and brown leaves shivered in the breeze, but he didn’t feel the cold at all.

Dinner was quiet; but though no words were spoken, their eyes said plenty.

Bucky crossed their ankles under the table while the butler poured their wine, and Steve let the touch linger, looking up at his husband with a challenging glint in his eye. Bucky hid his own grin behind a spoonful of soup, amused and not the tiniest bit repentant.

When they rose from the table, their plates lay empty, but the wine glasses were left untouched. Something other than alcohol warmed their cheeks and sparkled their eyes, something far sweeter and far more addicting.

It was no surprise when Bucky dismissed their valets early that night, and undertook the task of undressing his lord husband himself. Steve thought it only fair to return the kindness.

Bucky took his time with Steve’s clothes, his touch gentle and deliberately slow. Steve let himself savour every moment; the whisper of the cravat as it was slipped from his neck; the soft rustle of the buttons as Bucky’s nimble fingers undid them; the waistcoat spreading like open wings on the floor, its silk gleaming like molten silver in the firelight.

Bucky’s hands wandered underneath Steve’s shirt, following the delicate curve of his spine, fitting themselves to his Steve’s skin – now the small of his back, now the tender flesh of his flank.

Steve welcomed the touch, as he welcomed the kisses Bucky trailed over the soft inside of his neck, tilting his head invitingly to let Bucky press closer.

He slid the suspenders off Bucky’s shoulders and boldly tugged the shirt out of Bucky’s trousers, seeking the smooth skin beneath. Bucky rewarded him with a groan, low and helpless against the shell of Steve’s ear, and lifted him into his arms, carrying him over to their bed.

When Bucky kissed down his stomach and lingered there, on the cream-like expanse of his belly, worshipping it as if he _knew_ the precious secret Steve carried inside, Steve closed his eyes against the dampness of tears, and laced his fingers through his husband’s hair, his heart aching from so much tenderness.

When Bucky thrust in, with a reverent whisper of Steve’s name on his lips, Steve braced his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and tossed his head back, his mouth slack around a moan; and when Bucky spent himself inside, thick and searing hot, the feeling surprised Steve like it had the first time – a shock of pleasure that stole his breath away.

He folded himself around Bucky, his own seed wet and sticky between them, and finally let his tears spill.

* * *

After, Bucky laid them on their sides and pulled Steve into his arms. Steve curled up against him, sharing Bucky’s pillow as Bucky stroked a broad hand along the length of his spine.

His whole body ached sweetly, contentment settled deep in his bones, but there was still something that needed to be done.

He combed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, brushing damp curls back from his brow, and whispered, “There’s something I must tell you.”

Bucky smiled down at him, his hand sweeping down Steve’s back in a long caress. “Then I shall listen,” he said.

Steve hesitated. So many times before he had wondered how he should say this, but still he felt at a loss, the right words escaping him entirely. Bucky seemed to notice his anxiety, for his touch moved from Steve’s back to his chin, tipping it up so their eyes could meet.

“Is something wrong?” He asked gently.

“Not quite,” Steve said.

Ignoring the restless pounding of his heart, he took Bucky’s hand in his own and guided it under their quilts, to rest against his own belly.

“I have suspected for a while,” he began slowly, “and– you see, we might have a very special guest arrive by next summer.”

His hands were shaking as he waited, watching Bucky with bated breath.

He saw the moment light dawned on Bucky’s face, the way his eyebrows arched and his eyes widened, his mouth falling open in surprise.

“Steve,” he gasped, “Steve, are you really–”

Steve nodded. “I cannot be sure until I’ve seen a doctor, but all the signs are there.”

It was the growing smile on Bucky’s lips that made him _truly_ hope, and drove away the last of his fears. He brushed his knuckles against Bucky’s flushed cheek, smiling tentatively back at him.

“We’re having a baby, Mr. Barnes.”

So many emotions passed on Bucky’s face then– joy, and hope, and love, of the purest, brightest kind. He was beaming, and yet the firelight caught the wet shimmer in his eyes.

“Steve,” he breathed, and in a heartbeat, he had his arms wrapped around him, and his face buried against Steve’s shoulder. “Steve, good Lord...”

Steve held him tightly, pressing soothing kisses to his tousled hair.

When Bucky pulled away, it was only so he could cup his palm over Steve’s stomach once more. He looked down in awe, tracing his thumb over Steve’s soft skin, and Steve felt his heart burst with happiness.

He lay his hand on top of Bucky’s, keeping it close – knowing that right there, right there within the cradle of their palms, their child was growing. He could only marvel at the thought. How small every life started – and what a miracle it was, to be born, and to be so wanted.

“A child,” Bucky whispered, completely wonderstruck.

Steve squeezed his hand in sympathy. Now that the secret was out, now that he’d said it out loud, it felt so much more real, like it never had before. “I hope they have your eyes,” he said softly.

Bucky hid a smile. He turned Steve in his arms and pulled him back against his chest, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder.

“I hope they have your heart,” he countered, nuzzling Steve’s cheek. Steve leaned into him with a grateful sigh.

Sleep was finally creeping up on him, making his eyelids droop and his limbs feel pleasantly heavy.

“I love you,” he mumbled, snuggling back into his husband’s familiar warmth.

The last thing he felt, before darkness took over, was Bucky’s smile against his skin, and the sweet rumble of his voice as he promised, “I love you, too.”


End file.
